


The Game Maker

by Heda_Lexa



Category: The 100 (TV), The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Clexa, raven reyes badass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 03:48:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5191037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heda_Lexa/pseuds/Heda_Lexa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When her love gets pulled into a cruel game of life & death, Clarke Griffin accepts the offer to work for said game tv show to secretly watch over her lover and sabotage any plans of harming them. Game Maker and Heda Lexa, also knows as Commander, has different plans though. And it's all in her hands... right? </p>
<p>Despite the honorable intentions of Clarke, what will she sacrifice?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. All she knows is death. And how to enjoy it.

** All she knows is death. And how to enjoy it. **

 

Her eyes fly open. She looks at an unfamiliar ceiling and a confused frown builds on her forehead. That's until she feels a warm body cling to her left arm. And she remembers where she is.

 

With a warm smile on her face she turns her head and meets her eyes with messy brown hair. Chuckling softly she tucks it back behind the girl's ear and soaks in her sleeping face.

 

The eyes are closed softly, her breathing is even, she has a small smile on her lips and her arms are wrapped around Clarke's upper arm. Clarke can feel the soft breathing on her cheek. It's peaceful.

 

The nose of the brunette crunches and a low whisper is heard. “'ou staring again.”

 

“Just a little bit”, the blonde smiles brightly.

 

Katniss reaches her hand up to rub her forehead. “Late?”

 

“Only morning. Don't worry.” Clarke moves her fingertips over rough skin. “It's 2 hours past sunrise. You woke up early.”

 

Katniss pushes the hand of her lover away and sits up. She stretches her muscles and looks at blue eyes staring at her. “Not as early as you.”

 

The blonde shrugs it off. “I was thinking.”

 

“You know, I really think you should do it”, says Katniss, convinced that her opinion on this topic is no longer a matter to Clarke.

 

A smile forms on Clarke's face and she nods. “I won't accept the offer. You know I don't agree with the games and I do not wanna have anything to do with them.”

 

Katniss slides off the bed and starts to undress herself with blue eyes watching her every move. “I know and I don't either. But it would make money and you could possibly be free. You know... go away from here. Live instead of just surviving. Don't we deserve better than this?” 

She sure has some real abs coming from all the hunting, running and climbing she is doing to provide food for her family. But her skin is rough and unhealthy, her eyes are full of lost dreams and trapped hopes, her hair is broken and filthy. But she still looks so good.

 

Not that Clarke looks any better. “We do. But I won't leave without you. Never.” Her skin is pale and she gave up on keeping her hair straight and healthy many years ago. Here in District 12 there's just nothing they can do about it. Shampoo is unknown and running water would be a pleasure. Most of the times they do not have power, but they survive. There's just one thing that's different about Clarke, that makes her different from all those people trapped in District 12's misery. Her eyes hadn't lost their sparks yet. She still has hope.

 

Hope for what? Who knows. She doesn't know. That the Hunger Games get cancelled? Well, that won't happen. That president Thelonious Jaha disappears and someone else rules? Not any time soon. Or maybe that suddenly the poorness of District 12 will end? No hunger? No sickness? No freezing in the cold? At least that would be something.

 

Now in her normal clothing, being also her hunting gear and what not, Katniss braids her hair in her usual side-braid-style. “I'mma go hunting before the ceremony starts.”

 

“I come with you.”

 

Katniss smiles and that's all Clarke is hoping for. They both know Clarke and hunting wouldn't go well together. She's breathing too loud, she steps on every cracking stick, she can't move in the woods and honestly, even if she didn't do anything wrong her presence would still alarm the animals. She just has this thing about her, that you notice her no matter where and when.

 

“I'll catch you later.” Katniss grabs her father's jacket and throws it on. She kisses her blonde lover goodbye and leaves the house to go to the woods.

 

Feeling awkward standing around in the Everdeen family house while Katniss' mother and little sister are still asleep, she slips into her clothes and leaves the wooden building. 

 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

 

“I don't understand why we even do that”, a woman's voice rings through the train compartment. “You could just blow these off, Heda.”

 

A girl with brown hair in a tight ponytail turns around from the food tables she is facing. “I told you, Octavia, it's a way to bond with the Districts. Heda being there in person is such an honor and it's not their fault that the most Districts are just so awkward and poor and … dirty.”

 

“Em pleni”, Heda's voice interrupts the two girls. “Every year one of the Districts gets the honor to meet the Heda, the Game Maker, me. And this year it's the 12. See the bright side, next year will be the District 1.”

 

“We all love the 1, Heda”, Octavia says. “All the great costumes, I mean never as great as in Polis obviously, but they try, they try.”

 

“Raven”, the Commander addresses the ponytail girl.

 

“Mh?” She turns to the woman, her mouth full of explicit, delicious, bright colored food.

 

Giving the girl a small smile, very unlike Heda, she demands: “Cameras on stage, lights on me, a little bit on the crowd. We won't show the misery all around 12. The last we need is a poor, sad village destroying all the excitement around the Hunger Games.”

 

“Aye, captain”, Raven salutes.

 

Octavia rolls her eyes practically to heaven.

 

“What?!”, Raven snaps at her co worker.

 

“You don't salute in closed rooms”, Octavia says, chin up, arms crossed. “Except for the Medal of Honor. That's above.”

 

“I have no idea what that is or what you even have, like, did you forget to record the last Hunger Games or maybe your satin isn't red enough this time? Did too many stars fall from the sky and you ran out of wishes?” Raven is furious. Octavia, yet again, managed to make a simple gesture into a hella fight.

 

“Just in case you actually are able to process simple words: I do have only one wish and that's for you to die in the games. I'd personally throw some shit at you.”

 

The girls' staring contest is intense and if you'd walk between those two, you'd probably explode from their laser eyes or something.

 

Heda suppresses a sigh. “Em pleni.” She straightens her back and looks down on the two shorter women. “We are a team. And I do not need this drama right before the games. Get it together.”

 

Both brown haired women kept the staring for just as much before doing as the Heda says and ending their eye gonplei. 

 

“Beja”, Heda thanks them and sits down on one of the purple couches, Octavia sitting on the other one standing perfectly in a 90° angle to Heda's.

 

Just as the beautiful 21-year-old Commander reaches out for a tiny glass of red liquid on the table, the door to their train compartment opens silently and closes again. She looks up to see who's coming, her hand half-way to the liquid. “Indra.” She pulls her hand back and sits straight in her seat, looking strong and fierce as ever.

 

“Heda”, the short haired woman approaches. “Twenty minutes until the city of coal mines hits the surface.” The commander gives the woman a nod. Indra honors the other two girls, being Octavia and Raven, with a glare saying as much as to better behave. Then she turns and leaves.

 

The Commander rises from her seat and walks around the table. “Raven, I have to excuse Octavia and I. It's time -”

 

“- to get your mack on.” Shocked that she couldn't shut herself up before the words slipped her mouth, Raven regrets it instantly. Regretting not only interrupting the Heda but also accusing her of such things, even if it was more like a joke, she fears for her answer. After all Heda is her boss and she feels very much like she is going to get fired in a heartbeat. 

Fighting with Octavia constantly, interrupting and accusing the Heda. She went too far this time.

 

But the Commander of the Hunger Games just smiles slightly and leaves it at that. She turns on her heel, grace all over, and with Octavia following her neatly she walks out and Raven is left alone with herself.

 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

 

Clarke is just finishing the final touches of her hair. She took a much needed bath, put on a white simple dress, which is only reserved for the ceremony, and is now putting her hair up in a neat tight braided hair-do.

 

She was afraid, more than ever. 

 

If today the name on the card being chosen by fortuity reads _Katniss Everdeen_ , she can not do the slightest thing about it. She is 18 now. She is no longer a possible candidate for the Hunger Games, and that alone should be a relieve, but it also means that she can't volunteer. And if Katniss is the one, she would rather volunteer than see her one true love fight for her life in one of those stupid games.

 

She could just hope, pray and beg to the universe that it would not be her Katniss. Not her Katniss. Please let it be not her Katniss.

 

“Hey.” 

 

Clarke jumps in surprise and then laughs at her own fear. “Katniss!” She closes her arms around the young woman and soaks in the smell of flowers and trees and grass and soap. 

 

With a smile Katniss pulls back and looks into Clarke's wonderful blue eyes. That spark, tho.  _Never lose it, Clarke._ “I see you're all dressed up. Is this for me?”, she jokes.

 

The blonde grins and spins for her love to admire the dress. It's not extraordinary but it's the best she has.

 

“You look beautiful. Just like you always do.”

 

“Cheesy”, Clarke pokes her arm and Katniss pulls her close in respond, she presses her lips on Clarkes.

 

Clarke can feel the little emotion-thingies in her stomach come to life and twirl and twist and dance and kiss and jump and run and oh she's having fun. Pulling the woman even closer to her, Clarke deepens the kiss; she doesn't want this moment to end. She doesn't want any moment she spends with Katniss to ever end. 

 

But Katniss pulls back and reminds her of reality. “It's time”, she says. “I love you.”

 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

 

Clarke watches as Katniss helps her little sister Prim find her way in the line. She watches as they separate and stand waiting for the ceremony to begin. Clarke saw Prim when the needle took a little bit of her blood. Primrose was not made for the wilderness, let alone for any kind of war.

 

But her name was in there once, it's her first year. She's 12 now. Katniss name on the other hand was in there quiet a lot. For the 5 years that she's been in the right age and a few times more to get food and oil in exchange to put her name in another time.

 

Clarke waits with the other adults, all of them with sad faces. A lot of them, parents, siblings and other relatives, scared that one of their young family members will be chosen.

 

“Clarke...” She didn't react, she didn't wanna take her eyes off her girlfriend. She couldn't. Her heart was pounding. This was torture. “Clarke”, the woman tried again.

 

“Not now, mom.”

 

“Clarke, I need to talk to you.” Clarke loses Katniss as some of the Grounders, an army under the control of the Heda, pushes them forward and in line. She looks at her mother, Abby Griffin looks sad. “I didn't mean for this to happen.”

 

“It's okay, mom. It's done and can't be undone. Just move on.” Hurt by the memory of the loss of her beloved father and stubborn as always not to talk to her mother she turns to look at Katniss again, she can see her now.

 

Katniss' attention is all on her little sister, but for a moment, just a little moment she allows herself to give Clarke a smile and she nods. Clarke needs to talk to her mother. It was an accident and she knows it better than anyone. Abby needs forgiveness and she needs her daughter.

 

“Clarke -”

 

“Look, mom”, she turns to the older woman and seriously promises: “When this all goes well, when I know Katniss is safe then I promise we will talk about everything you want. But right now, I just can't deal with more than having Katniss maybe sent into death. So could you please just wait until this is over? Please?”

 

Abby nods and it's only now Clarke notices that her mother's brown hair is not in a bun or in an up-do or in any 'do' at all. She didn't put on a nice dress for the ceremony, she didn't make her hair, maybe she didn't even wash properly. Her mother just didn't care what the capitol and the president would think if this was shown on TV.

 

Funny enough everywhere in the poor District 12 were TVs. Even in the coal mines, which is totally absurd, if you ask Clarke. But the only channel that it shows is the capitol TV. It's all about the Hunger Games and it's tributes, winners and losers both. But mostly winners.

So while most people do not own showers and have to wash in a big wooden bucket and while most of the time there's no power and even the fence to protect them from the wild animals in the woods is off duo to power problems, those stupid capitol TVs always work. All hail the president! Right? 

 

“Stupid games”, she mutters and she doesn't even care if anyone hears it.

 

After waiting around fifteen minutes more, finally they blow the horns and welcome the Game Maker with music and clapping. And Clarke just wants to scream into the Heda's face “WHY?”. Why would someone do that? Build a place where people can kill each other in the  cruelest way possible and where there can only – out of 24 children -  be one to survive it all. 

 

She gives Katniss another look, but the girl is busy not leaving her sister out of her eyes.

 

The music plays, the horns quiet down and the Game Maker walks with a straight back, confidence in her whole body and the dare to try and fight her in her eyes along the path her Grounder warriors made clear for her. She wears her usual Heda gear. All dark and dangerous; a mix of style, comfort, war gear and leader gear, with only one stroke of red cutting through the darkness like blood on ashes. Her hair is beautiful and she has complicated braids in it. But the most furious to Clarke are her eyes. Those dead eyes that stare right out of her war paint o f black color spread across her eyes and dripping down her cheeks in four lines.

 

The Commander walks towards the small stage, that some technique people build up before the ceremony, and she knows she owns this situation. Clarke can see it in her body language. This woman probably doesn't know a thing about fear or hunger. She's cruel. All she knows is death. And how to enjoy it.

 

As the Commander of the Hunger Games reaches the stairs to the stage, Clarke's eyes are in a full glare. She hates this woman. Oblivious to the dead stares coming from the blonde in the crowd, the Heda settles herself in front of the microphone. She smiles and begins to talk.

 

“Welcome.” Her voice sounds hard and with no mercy. She gains everyone's attention easily. _I guess that's one way to put it._ “I'm the Commander, Heda. I wish you all happy Hunger Games. And may the odds be ever in your favor.” 

 

“Of course”, Clarke grumbles annoyed and angrily. “ _Be ever in your favor_ ”, she mimics the woman on stage and she receives a little push from her mother to be quiet now.

 

“The peace lies among our cities, and all together we create one nation. It wasn't always quiet this easy and neither was it any simple. The 13 Districts tried to settle a war against the capitol. But the capitol fought back. And we won!” Some Grounders roar to their Heda. “In an offer of peace, not wanting any more loss, Polis decided to take in all the Districts, so they would work hand in hand, heart by heart to build a better future. Unfortunately the District 13 wasn't quiet pleased with that arrangement. They settled for another attack, one that would have destroyed Polis, your capitol with your president and many innocent people, forever. But the capitol would fight back. Thanks to a hint, it was not too late to safe our newly combined nation – just that District 13 is now gone. The war between the capitol and it's enemy has ended all living things in the District 13. Shall that, among the games, be a reminder for all of us to not live in war, but in peace. Or we will all end like 13. 

After 13 got destroyed the leaders of all the Districts and the president of our nation made a contract. In which it says that every year every District shall give one of their brave young man and women to go to the capitol and attend a game in which they will fight to death. The winner will be honored and offered many great benefits. Today this day has come along once again. Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the 74 th Hunger Games! Let the game begin.”

 

The Grounder warriors clapped and roared and slowly the people of District 12 fell into the clapping, not wanting to upset the fearless Heda. 

 

Leaving the people to express their excitement for a while, the Commander watches over the crowd and she sees one blonde girl in a white simple dress who's not clapping along at all. Ignoring the fact that she doesn't seem too afraid of her, the Heda continues. “Now...” A pause for the people to quiet down. “...let's pick our tributes. As usual, ladies first.” The woman goes to her left side and moves her hand into a big glass bowl full of papers with names on them. She picks from the top and goes back to the microphone. 

 

Slowly she opens the paper and reads out the name: “This year's female tribute is....  _Primrose Everdeen._ ”

 

Clarke let out a breath of relieve. It is not Katniss. Not her Katniss. Not... Her head snaps up in realization and she sees Katniss already running after her sister screaming that she's volunteering. 

 

Her heart sinks. “No.” Katniss. It's Katniss. Her Katniss. She's going. She's gonna fight for her life for a fucking TV show and she's probably gonna die. “KATNISS! KATN-!” A hand shuffles her mouth and an arm holds her tight so she can't move. She tries to fight it as hot tears run down her cheeks but the arms are too strong.

All of her being seems to crash as the woman she loves walks towards the stage, towards her death and she breaks down and cries as her mother tries to quiet her down.

 

_ Katniss climbing through the “highly dangerous” fence to get to the woods _

_ Katniss letting her arrow fly _

_ Katniss smiling at her _

_ Katniss blaming her for the deer that escapes _

_ Katniss watching her dance in the snow _

_ Katniss kissing her _

_ Katniss in her father's jacket _

_ Katniss being lovely with Prim _

_ Katniss eating dinner with her _

_ Katniss falling asleep with her _

_ Katniss waking up next to her _

_ Katniss, so beautiful, so strong, so pure, so amazing _

Katniss going to the Hunger Games …..

 

 


	2. Be A Polis Bitch

**Be A Polis Bitch**

 

„~ark? … Do you hear me? Clarke?”

 

Vision blurry and head heavy Clarke opens her eyes slowly. “Mom?”, she asks confused. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Clarke!” Her mother pulls her up into her arms and a very confused Clarke tries to push her off.

 

“Mom, let go.” She finally manages to get herself out of the arms of the older woman. “Why are you so clingy?”

 

“Clarke, you passed out. Do you remember?” Concern is written all over Abby's face.

 

“Passed out.... Today's the ceremony. The Hunger Games. _Katniss!_ ” Abruptly sitting up seems to be a bad idea, Clarke's head spins and her vision turns black for a moment. “I need to see her.”

 

Two hands on her shoulder steady her and her mother softly speaks. “Clarke, you need to drink something.”

 

“I need to see Katniss!”, she argues. It could possibly be the last time she had the chance to talk to her girlfriend. If the train didn't board yet. _Oh god. What if Katniss is already gone and I didn't say goodbye?_

 

“Please, Clarke, drink-”

 

“Mom!”, Clarke interrupts Abby angrily. Does she not understand the importance of the situation? Does she not understand how this is her life basically being ended right now? The blonde slides off the bed – did her mom carry her home? - and quickly makes her way to the door, only swaying a little.

 

“Clarke!”, her mother rushes to grab her, but Clarke is already out of the house and Abby figures there's no way her stubborn daughter would waste any more second on her own health, so she let her go with much worry and even more sadness about her daughter's loss.

 

Her heart pounds in her chest and it's the only thing she can hear. She doesn’t hear the birds singing like nothing happened. She doesn't hear her loud steps on the ground while she hurries over the market place. She can't hear the unsteady breathing of herself. But what does it matter anyway? When Katniss dies, she dies. When Katniss goes, she will follow. When Katniss loses, she loses with her.

 

Clarke only gets her thoughts together as she is stopped by a rough hand in the middle of her walk. “Let me go!”, she yells at the Grounder.

 

“No trespassing.”

 

“I need to see her! I wanna say goodbye! I have the right to say goodbye!”, she demands. The Grounder looks to his right and Clarke follows her eyes just to see the one person she would love to kill right now – slowly and very very painfully.

 

The Commander nods and the man let's her pass. Clarke pushes the door open and runs inside, she pushes all the doors in the small house open not caring who or what is behind them, just trying to find her lover.

 

“ _Katniss!”,_ her own voice sounds unfamiliar to her and when she sees the woman who's every freckle is like home to her she breaks down and cries.

 

Katniss manages to just wrap her up in her arms before Clarke breaks down. Hearing her girlfriend cry makes her wanna cry too. She can't stand having Clarke hurt. But she can't afford to cry. She needs to be strong. For Clarke. And for Prim. And for her mother, too.

 

“Katniss, don't go. They can't make you. Just don't go”, Clarke pleads and she knows very well that they can indeed make Katniss go. And if she refuses, Kat will not be the only one suffering from that decision.

 

“Look at me.” The brunette pulls away, hands on the blonde's shoulders to steady her, she looks serious and Clarke hates what's about to happen.

 

“I know.” She nods with tears in her eyes, all over her cheeks, sobs in her throat. “I will take care pf Prim, I promise.”

 

But to her surprise the newly chosen tribute for the Hunger Games shakes her head. “No.”

 

Confused she shakes her head. No?

 

“I need you to do something for me, Clarke.”

 

She looks at the very serious eyes that has lost hope so long ago, but there's a spark now. _It's the very last moment to gain back hope, Katniss_ , she thinks. But it's not hope for herself or for her family. Still Clarke does not know what else it could be. Until Katniss clarifies.

 

“You go to the capitol -”

 

“No!”

 

“Wait, listen. You need to accept the job offer and go to Polis to be part of the Game Maker's team.” Clarke is shaking her head constantly. She will not do that. She will not be around that bitch of a woman who is killing her girlfriend for fun. “Clarke, listen”, Katniss continues. “You can help me win this. You can make an influence and if it's just one single thing. Maybe it doubles my chances.” Footsteps are in the corridor and the brunette hurries to finish. “Gale is taking care of Prim. She'll be fine. But I need to win this. I promised her. I need to win this for her, Clarke. She needs me. Please, Clarke -”

 

The door swings open and the same man of the Grounders from stopping her to enter before is now standing in the door frame. “I'm not finished yet!”, Clarke yells angrily.

 

“It's time to go”, he states matter of facts.

 

“No.” She throws herself into her girlfriend's arms and whispers. “I promise I'll get you home safe. I promise, Kat. Please just survive. Please come home.” A hand grabs her by the forearm and tries to pull her away. She refuses to let go. Instead she takes the pin-on Mockingjay from inside her sleeve and hands it to Katniss. “It will protect you.” Strong arms pull her away from the other woman. “No!” She struggles but it's like trying to push a rock with a feather. “KATNISS!”

 

Just before the Grounder carries her out and the door closes, Katniss yells after her girlfriend: “I love you!”

 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

 

_ They sat in the tree, away from all the misery, away from all the dying in the world, away from their own lives and away from everything bad that ever happened. It was just a tree. They were not very high up, only three feet, but for them it felt like they were sitting in the sky. The only thing of matter were the green leafs, the sun shining through the crown of the tree, the soft summer breeze and the presence of one another. _

 

“ _Clarke”, a young Katniss whispers. “Be quiet. Look.” She nods over to one of the other trees in the woods._

 

_ Clarke looks over to see a black bird stealing a few berries from a nest before quickly flying away. “What's that?”, she asks curiously. _

 

“ _It's a Mockingjay”, Katniss explains. “My father has told me a lot about them. How they tricked the humans and now it's a whole new species.”_

 

“ _What do you mean?”, 12-year-old Clarke asks._

 

_ Katniss pulls out a pin-on, it's shining in the sunlight coming through the trees and to Clarke it looks like pure gold. She grabs it in awe. “That's a Mockingjay, too”, Katniss explains. _

 

_ Clarke studies the bird on the pin-on carefully. She loves it. “This must have cost you at least five squirrels.” _

 

_ Katniss smiles big. “I got a good deal.” As Clarke reaches out to hand it back, Katniss shakes her head. “It's yours. It will protect you. Now you don't need to be afraid anymore. You don't need to be haunted at night anymore and wake up from demons destroying your night dreams.” _

 

_ Clarke smiles big at a 10-year-old Katniss. She wears her hair in a side-braid-style and her clothes are too big for her – bigger clothes last longer as children grow and the poor need every cent. _

 

“ _Thank you”, she says. “But it's a treasure. And pirates like to go after treasures and I'm sure my mom would like to sell it.” Clarke is still convinced it's made of pure gold. “Maybe we should hide it?”_

 

“ _Here.” Katniss takes the pin-on Mockingjay and pins it to the inside of Clarke's sleeve. “No one will see. And it's always gonna be right there.”_

 

_ They grin at each other. “Thank you so much, Kat. Now I will never go to the Hunger Games.” _

 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

 

“Commander?”, Anya's voice comes to Lexa's ears.

 

She turns and continues to wipe off the war paint on her face. “Yes?”

 

“Someone's seeking your attention. This girl, Griffin?, she's wanting to talk to you.”

 

Lexa waves her hand in a gesture to let the girl onto the train. “I will see her in a minute. She can get comfortable in one of the train compartments.” She turns away and looks into the mirror. Her eyes are completely free from the sticky black paint Octavia put on her hours earlier.

 

She looks herself up and down in the mirror. The Heda gear is still on her, her hair is still braided, her appearance is still intimidating. But at least the scary war paint is finally off her skin. She takes to some skin products Octavia makes her use so her skin won't grow dry and red from all the paint she's always wearing on her face. After washing her face thoroughly and using the skin cream, she makes her way out of her compartment. Guessing that Anya, who's managing the appearances in all the Districts, had led the woman into the compartment with the awful purple couches and the very bright food, she makes her way through the train.

 

The train is not moving yet, but is to take off in a couple of minutes, so she decides it's gonna be a rather quick talk. She can't afford that girl still being on the train once they leave.

 

As she slides open the door, she already sees the blonde standing in the room facing the amount of food on the tables. The blonde turns just as the door closes and Lexa knows she's seen her before. It's the girl from the crowd in the white dress, who dared to not clap and not smile and not do anything but silently take in the whole occasion.

 

“You have something to discuss, I assume?”, Lexa says, her voice like always in her Commander tone, strong and with the hint to dare anyone to try and fight her. She knows she's intimidating the younger girl but the blonde sure knows how to hide it.

 

“Yes”, she responds. “I am Clarke Griffin. A while ago I have received an offer, which I'd like to take if that's still on the table.” Talking about tables Clarke Griffin's eyes slowly find their way to the food again. Lexa assumes she must be starving, like most people in District 12.

 

“I do not discuss job offers myself.”

 

“Of course not”, she whispers and though she tries to hide it, Lexa can hear the anger in her voice. “Who can I talk to?”

 

“Clarke Griffin, you say.” Deciding to tease the girl a little, she walks over to grab a wonderful red bright fruit and bite into it. Clarke takes the trap, just as she hoped, and her eyes lie on the fruit hungrily. “Who recommeded you?”

 

“Some bird”, Clarke responds, not able to think clear as she sees the fruit juice drop down the Commander's lips and all she wants is to lick every last drop off the skin. She's so hungry. So thirsty.

 

“A bird?”, the Commander raises her eyebrows. This girl must have gone crazy. Probably duo to too much coat smell or the lack of food and health care. Or the bird was... “Raven Reyes?”

 

The blonde nods. “Yes. That's her. Do you only work with girls?”

 

Lexa gives the girl one of her many Heda looks, this one being the one saying  _ don't go too far, I am fucking Heda _ but Clarke was still so focused on the fruit that she didn't notice. So Lexa decided to forgive the poor girl this one time. “No.”

 

“So is the spot open?” Clarke-girl is direct. Good thing, or bad thing? Lexa has yet to decide about that.

 

“It is indeed. I do usually go through some background of the people I work with, especially those who are directly involved in the games, but since Raven recommended you for whatever reason, let's say you're on board. For now.”

 

“For now? What's that supposed to mean?” Just as she said the words, Clarke realizes that snapping at the Heda might not be the best way to save her girlfriend.

 

“You're in a test phase. Don't screw it up. Welcome on board. Is there anything you need to get before we roll in” - she glances to the clock on the wall - “two minutes?”

 

Clarke's head spins and she has trouble keeping her feet on the ground. After all she still needs to drink and rest after the pass out from earlier. Figuring that she does not wanna see her mother, who would only stop her from leaving, she shakes her head. “I am good.”

 

“Okay. I will inform the crew and the team and the security. Octavia will dress you up and... get you clean.”

 

_ Fucking bitch!,  _ Clarke thought angrily.  _ Clean? Like who's fault is it we don't have running water or shampoo or enough soap to actually use it every day? Fucking rich bitch from the capitol! I'd love to take the whole population in Polis and have them fuck your shitty attitude out of your stupid brainwashed, wrong-minded, self-centered mind! I can't even stand seeing your ugly face right now. You killed my girlfriend! I am gonna fuck you so hard, little princess. You won't know what's coming your way, you won't be able to stand up again and you will die from starving just like many of my people did. _

 

“Are we clear?”, Lexa asks, knowing full well the blonde is trying to not spit at her.

 

“So clear”, Clarke responds. 

 

The Commander nods shortly and leaves Clarke to be alone. She knows she's taking a high risk. She knows that girl is not a fan of the games and she doesn't understand why Raven would even recommend someone like that. Someone from District 12, where they had absolutely no potential for any part of the game, be it in the arena or outside. And why the girl, who so clearly dislikes the game, accepted such an offer was beyond her. But Lexa would find out. 

 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

 

After a very chatty woman called Octavia insisted on helping her clean up and Clarke on the other hand insisted on washing herself alone, she was dressed up in some Polis clothes. It felt weird and she insisted on going with pants and a top and a blue leather jacket instead of whatever thing Octavia wanted her to wear. The girl was totally driving her nuts. She didn't know how to stop talking and not only that, she was also only talking about the upcoming games. When the girl went for Clarke's hair, she snapped at her to leave it alone. After a heated argument they both agreed on wavy hair for Clarke with one simple braid. Fair enough.

 

Now they are sitting on the couch and Octavia already told Clarke everything about the newest fashion in Polis, which she couldn't care less about. Raven, who had joined them a little while ago, is keeping Clarke at least a little bit entertained. She is pointing out any given mistake Octavia makes and they keep getting into heated fights that lead nowhere near any solution. 

 

They are yet in another argument when the Heda enters the compartment. She had left her warrior clothes behind, but is still wearing the dark pants and the dark top and the fashionable unusable belt around her stomach. Her boots going all the way up her thighs and making her legs look longer than Clarke wants them to look.

 

“Heda!” Octavia jumps up and clears a seat for the Commander.

 

“Octavia, Raven”, she nods to them. “Clarke.”

 

“Commander”, she replies in her best way possible nice voice. Which was sadly not a lot. Clarke wasn't one to hide her anger, but now the life of her love lied upon it. 

 

The Commander takes a seat, surprisingly not on the now empty couch that Octavia had cleared, but next to Clarke. Octavia takes her previous seat enjoying having one of the two couches all to herself.

 

“Octavia, did you not offer our newest member some food?”

 

“But of course, Heda!”, Octavia quickly insisted. “She did not touch any of it.”

 

Lexa takes her eyes to wander over the different food on the table in front of them, that Octavia has served for Clarke. In the corner of her eye she sees the blonde trying hard to not look hungry, with no success whatsoever. 

 

“Clarke, you should eat. It's all going to waste.” The Commander knows full well that food going to waste, being thrown away, is a good tease to get the starving, poor people to eat. They fight for every little berry and she just assured Clarke that all the tons of great, delicious food would get thrown away.

 

Clarke on the other hand isn't so keen about eating anything.  _I do not need your pity or your false kindness, Heda. Go suck a dick and choke on it!_ But her stomach is not quietly agreeing with her. It growls and hurts and all three women have their eyes on her.  _How come I'm the only blonde here? Racism. HAIRcism!_ With another growl her stomach wins the fight and Clarke starts to eat. After the first bite she is hit off guard by her very deep hunger and she doesn't care how it looks or sounds, she just eats and she doesn't stop until she's fuller than the Commander is full of bullshit.  _I sure am Katniss a better help when I can think clear. I'm going to get you out of there, Kat._

 

“Girl can eat”, Raven says excited.

 

“So you're not the only one with bad eating habits and no table behavior. Congrats”, the chatty fashion and make up artist spits out.

 

“At least I am not starving myself to death to look thinner than a very well know sexy Commander you're super damn hitting on.”

 

Octavia gasps loudly and opens her mouth to throw back any assault she can think of, but said Commander interrupts her. “Em pleni. You two are going to get the best of me.”

 

_ You gonna put them in an arena to fight til death, dear Commander? _ , Clarke thinks angrily.  _ Calm down, Clarke. It's your girlfriend's life, not just some scholarship. This is important. Be a Polis bitch. Be a Game Maker. _

 

“I'm sorry, Heda”, Octavia apologizes while Raven just rolls her eyes and forms the words 'whipped' with her mouth.

 

“We have a very long way ahead of us and I do want to get through it in peace. Do you understand?”

 

Octavia nods. This Heda definitely has her under her thumb.

 

“Raven?”, the Commander addresses the beautiful girl.

 

“Yes, Commander. No more fighting.... in front of you.”

 

The Game Maker nods and seems to be pleased by letting them fight when she's not around. Of course, Clarke thinks, that's so her. 

 

“We have a lot to discuss since we have a new member on our team this year. I expect you to behave and welcome her just as we always do. I will have a talk with the tributes now and then with Anya to check up our time schedule. If you need anything, my caterers Fox and Echo will be at your call.” The tall woman rises from her seat and Clarke feels suddenly intimidated by her whole being. That perfect, yet messy hair with the complicated braids that she wears so simply. Her clothes fitting her skinny body perfectly and making her breasts look so delicious, yet it shows off her strength perfectly, it seems to be a leader gear also made for a fight. That boots though going all up her thighs and leaving Clarke to wonder how it would make her feel if the Commander just took them off slowly and revealed her long legs. 

 

_Inappropriate, Clarke!_ The woman she was just drooling over leaves the three girls alone and instantly Raven and Octavia start to argue again. Not so heavy this time tho.

 

“You are so whipped, O.” The ponytail girl speaks.

 

Octavia, -  _aka O; note to self –_ responds with a cheeky smile. “She's Heda and I do respect her leadership.”

 

“Whipped”, Raven says dragging the word out and facing Clarke while doing so. “Agree, Clarke?”

 

She's caught off guard. She didn't think they would involve her in any of their conversations very much more than they did before, which was simply her nodding all the time. “Erhh...”

 

Octavia now leaves her eyes on Clarke, too. Obviously stating some disrespect towards her beloved leader.

 

Quickly Clarke jumps over her shadow and acts like  _a Polis bitch._ “I don't know about Octavia being whipped, Raven. I will give you my opinion another time. After all, she is in fact the Commander and her word is law.”  _I think I'mma throw up. Right into the laws face – Commander!_

 

“Let's talk about how you just really wanna take that tight jeans off of the Heda and make her moan your name.” Smirk all across her face, Raven watches Octavia closely. 

 

The other girl's face turns red. “That's disrespectful, Raven Reyes.” 

 

Clarke feels a little uncomfortable with the situation. She wants to say how much she wants to fuck the Commander – just not in the way Raven accuses Octavia of. Not like physically making her feel good. More like, fuck her whole being up and leave her to die in a freaking corner. Yeah, more like that.

 

“You have to admit though”, Octavia continues. “she is one hot lady. Those eyes. So fierce and strong and urgh if she would demand me to jump off a bridge I'd go for it.”

 

“Whipped!” 

 

“Now I agree.” She is just as surprised as the other two girls that she puts herself into the conversation. “I... I mean you are whipped. Like, are you close with her?” _Maybe she knows some dirt I can throw._

 

“Very!!”

 

“Urgh she's just fangirling over the Commander like every girl on the planet. But secretly I feel like they are fucking at some of their private sessions together. You sometimes hear moans sounding much like Octavia when she sees the newest spring collection.” Clarke can't stop herself, she giggles. Raven has something that she likes. But it's not enough to make up for the fact what she and her other Polis bitches do every year to 24 of her people.

 

“The Commander mentioned that the tributes are in the train. Do you know where?”

 

“No. Not allowed to go there.” The girl she will probably never recognize without her ponytail shakes her head. _Note to self: Raven might be a good fake friend at the games center._

 

Octavia on the other hand snorts and raises her hand like a queen. “You maybe not, low key worker. I though am allowed.” Proudly she smiles at Clarke. “I do their dresses for all the appearances and their make up. I will get to meet them soon.”

 

Hope rushes through her body.  _Katniss._ “So you know where they are right now?”

 

“Oh darling, yes I do.” The girls seems frustrated that she has to state the obvious.

 

“I am curious”, Clarke implies softly. But not very subtle. 

 

“They're just a few compartments behind us. I think like the third from here.”

 

_ Katniss.... Katniss is here. Katniss is right here. In the same train. We're here together. I need to see her. Right now.  _ “I need to pee!” She stands up and almost falls over her own feet trying to not look suspicious. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me your thoughts and whatever bothers you. I promise more Lexa/Clarke moments coming next chapter.
> 
> Love,  
> Heda_Lexa


	3. Klark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it's so short and I also didn't look over it twice. So it's basically rough material. Anyway. Enjoy.

**Klark**

 

Lexa moves her hand through her hair, careful not to destroy her braids. This woman with her sky blue eyes and her golden hair is doing something to her that she can't describe. She wants to know her every thought and she wants to listen to her voice for hours.

 

_Ridiculous!,_ Heda thinks. This girl is trouble. She has something dangerous on her, but also something tempting. Which only makes her more dangerous to the Heda.

 

Lexa shakes her thoughts off her mind and walks up to Anya. A tall, brown haired, beautiful woman with just the same strength on her face as Lexa. 

 

“Lexa”, the woman says.

 

Lexa wants to smile but somehow it doesn't work. She has too much on her mind right now. “Anya”, she responds lazily.

 

Anya notices that her Heda has something on her mind, but knows better than to ask her about it. “We are on time, Lexa. Everything's going as planned. We should reach Polis in two hours. The train is the fastest we could rent.”

 

“Thank you, Anya.” She sighs and sits down. “Cameras and everything set up for the arrival?”

 

“Everything's perfectly fine and set up.” She looks at the Game Maker and smiles reassuringly. “Don't worry about a thing, Commander.”

 

Lexa nods; she's thankful for Anya's help and she knows she can trust her with everything. “Anya?”

 

“Commander?”

 

She sighs and shakes her head. “Good work.”

 

“You too, Commander.” And it takes not more than this simple words for Lexa to know that Anya supports her decision about the blonde and that she knows the fearless Heda is not quiet that fearless.

 

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The toilets are big and fancy. Bright flowers everywhere. But that's about all Clarke notices. She has slipped away from the two brunettes to 'use the bathroom' and she did use the bathroom. Just not in the way you would assume. She used the bathroom to cover up the fact that she wants to sneak into Katniss department. So she went to the bathroom, waited three minutes, flushed the toilet and washed her hands and now she is about to slide the door open and make her way to Katniss department.

 

_ I am getting you out of this damn mess, Kat. I promise. _

 

Clarke's fingers are shaking slightly, she reaches out for the slide door and slides it open. Slowly she steps out and turns to her right. One step, two steps towards the right department. She can see the door on the other end and she's eager to reach it. 

 

“What are we doing, princess?”

 

Clarke literally jumps and she turns around startled to death. A beautiful, ponytail girl stands leaning against the wall on the left side of the bathroom door. _Stupidity_. _How did I not notice her being there?_

 

“Raven... I... was just about -”

 

“Yeah?” Raven's eyebrow raises and her arms cross above her chest. 

 

“I got lost.” _Wow that sounds convincing, Clarke._

 

“Of course. It has nothing to do with you wanting to go see the District 12 tributes, does it?” Raven ponytail Reyes has seen right through her. Clarke's heart beat quickens.

 

“I just -”

 

“No, I get it.” Raven interrupts her. She pushes herself off the wall and walks two steps closer to Clarke. She does not seem angry or anything and only that makes Clarke more suspicious about the girl's intentions. “You are new to the whole Game Maker team and you want to see the stars, the tributes.”

 

_What?_ The blonde needs a moment to realize that Raven girl was totally wrong about her intentions. “Oh right. Yes! Exactly.” _Now that sounds a little too relieved, Clarke! Be a Polis bitch._ “I am just glad you understand. You wouldn't tell the Commander, would you?”

 

“Naah”, Raven shakes her head. “Heda has a lot to discuss right now and bothering her with such a minor thing would only make her more nervous about you. She's very careful when we get new members. When I joint it was like she would have Octavia watch my every move. So annoying. But I guess she trusts me now.”

 

Clarke nods and forces a smile. _You ruined my chance to see Katniss, bird. I wanna see my girlfriend._

 

“Anyway, you better come with me now before Octavia figures out something's off road. She wouldn't hesitate to tell the Commander. She's super whipped.” The bird-named girl turns and walks back to their department, she doesn't turn around to see if Clarke is following, she doesn't even care. _I could still slip away to see Katniss._ Would that be so smart? _Raven already knows I wanted to see the tributes. I can be glad she won't tell anyone; if she keeps her word that is. It's too dangerous to go now. Octavia seems to be more of a threat than Raven. With some luck I could really make this work and save Katniss._

 

So giving up to see her girlfriend for now, she walks back to their department and gives Raven a smile. _Time to make friends._

 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

 

The next hour goes by rather quiet. Clarke tries hard to give Raven and Octavia a good _be a Polis bitch_ show and make friends with them. She has trouble though, because every time she seems to like them just a little bit, something reminds her that these two are part of the team that's killing her girlfriend for fun.

 

They talk and even though Clarke can't get over her hate for everyone and everything Polis, she learns to kinda enjoy the girls presence. Raven is clearly her favorite. But that's probably because Octavia is basically in love with the Heda. And all Clarke wants to do to the Heda are things that are far, far away from anything similar to love. Although she has to admit the woman who calls herself the Game Maker looks kind of hot. But a hot body does not speak of a soft soul.

 

Octavia and Raven get into their usual fights, but it remains rather calm and gentle. After one hour has passed by, both of the girls decide to get to work. 'O' claims she has to get a look at the tributes and start to draw some fashion ideas for both of them down. Only then Clarke realizes she did not bother to think about the male tribute at all. She doesn't know if she knows the boy, it could easily be one of her former classmates. Or maybe it's one of her friends. She feels bad about not giving it a thought at all. But before she gets to ask Octavia leaves the room, rambling on about different shades of colors and what not. Raven quickly rises and states she should give her work a little check, too. The bird girl leaves and Clarke has no idea what exactly her work is anyway.

 

Now she's left alone in the department, sitting on a purple couch and she thinks about the tribute that she didn't give a thought about altogether. Just as her thoughts go to Katniss again and she realizes she could easily give her girlfriend a visit, the door opens and she's not alone anymore. 

 

Not caring to look who entered, she assumes it's Raven coming back. “Watch dog, much?”

 

“Not quiet, Miss Griffin.” But the voice that speaks does not belong to Raven. Nor to Octavia. It's strong and fierce, no mercy and no vulnerability. 

 

“Commander”, Clarke says shocked. She thought the Game Maker would not join them until they reach Polis, she assumed said woman was too good to be around normal people. But here she is. In all her beauty. And she seems to look just a tiny bit softer around her lips and eyes than before. Her body language is relaxed yet graceful and powerful. Does she ever lose that leader attitude?

 

“I am so sorry”, Clarke continues; after all making friends with the Commander would give her more chances than keeping her suspicious about herself. “I thought that was Raven coming back to check on me. I didn't think you would join us until we reach Polis.”

 

“And why's that, Clarke?” Lexa takes a wine glass and pours herself some red liquid, that Clarke has yet to find out about. She moves her finger over the glass and plays with the round opening of it. The blonde watches her actions carefully. _Klark._ That's how she says her name. It sounds weird, but she likes it nevertheless. The Commander has her own way of pronouncing Clarke's name and Clarke loves it for some fucked up reason. _Klark._

 

Lexa's eyes meet hers and for just a moment she can see the defenses tumble behind that forest green eyes. She then notices that the woman has asked her a question. “I just assumed you had a lot business to talk about or something.” At least that was half way true.

 

“I like to sit with Raven and Octavia before the games start. We always have those nice little chats. But it seems just when I finished my business, they went to begin theirs. So you will have to deal with my presence now, Clarke.” _Klark. Klark._ How her name rolls on the Commander's tongue. So easy and so confident. _Klark._

 

“I do not mind at all, Commander. It's an honor. Please sit with me if you don't mind.” Although being nice to that awful woman is giving Clarke shivers, she assumes it's the best way to protect Katniss at the moment. Maybe getting closer to the Commander would give her some hints about how to help her in the arena. The worst it would do is give Clarke a goddamn headache. 

 

Lexa sits, surprising Clarke, next to the blonde. A weird feeling goes through Clarke's body. It's hot and cold, it's uncomfortable but also nice. She shakes the feeling off and smiles at her enemy. 

 

“Can I ask you something, Commander?”

 

“Of course, Clarke.” _Klark._ Again this weird hot and cold feeling.

 

“I was very distracted by your presence at the ceremony and I have to admit that I accidentally missed the chosen male tribute from my District. If you could just tell me his name?” Clarke puts her best pleasant face on and hopes the woman can't see her hate in her eyes.

 

Lexa smiles. The Commander actually smiles. Clarke is caught off guard, she had never seen the cruel Game Maker smile. “It's Finn Collins.” Her heart sinks. Finn Collins. Her ex-boyfriend. _You don't make friends easily, Commander. But you gain enemies pretty easily._

 

Clarke notices she's being watched by the Game Maker, so she nods and remains quiet.

 

“I am sorry, if he was close to you.” Lexa watches the blonde's eyes carefully. But there's not a change. If the girl really hates her, she has a way to cover it up and show it. She's such on/off. Sometimes it's so clear to her that Clarke Griffin hates her. But then she puts on that smile and Lexa isn't so sure anymore.

 

Rather wanting to change the topic, before the situation turns into a Clarke-trying-to-kill-the-Commander thing, Clarke says: “I really like your hair.”

 

Lexa doesn't move a muscle. “Thank you. Octavia is great with her work.”

 

“Octavia is one for clothes and make up, right?”

 

She nods. “Fashion, make up and hair. She's very passionate about it.”

 

“Did she come up with the dark Heda look?”

 

“I would rather say we worked hand in hand together on that one. But she put the outfit together and added the war paint idea.” The Commander looks at Clarke. Right now it seems like the girl doesn't wanna harm her a bit. But Lexa knows better than to let her barriers down that easily. Even though, with this blonde sky-blue-eyed girl she really wants to.

 

“What is Raven's job? I kinda forget to ask. This is all so overwhelming.” Clarke thinks she's doing a pretty well job playing that Polis bitch part and she's proud of herself. Pretending to be someone she's not seems to be easier than to actually be herself right now. Herself.... That's the person who's losing her girlfriend in a TV show, who's sitting in front of the woman responsible for that and who's wanting to kill her for it. But the girl she pretends to be is not. That's the person who is honored to meet Heda, who is excited about the games, who has many questions and no moral at all. Right now, that's the less painful part to play.

 

Lexa takes a sip of that red liquid. “Raven does a lot around the arena. From technique over to all the great mutations we use. She is the main person on constructing the whole arena. She has a whole team under her command. She really has a lot going on, but she makes it seem like nothing. She's a good girl. With a loose mouth though.”

 

“I like her loose mouth.” Clarke smiles slightly to cover up that she actually meant to say she likes Raven's fighting side, that said the Commander is fucking her make up artist. 

 

Lexa smiles slightly. Again? This is so weird. She never smiles. “I think it's refreshing to have her loose mouth around sometimes. Yet I have to make sure people don't pick her attitude up and act up against me. After all Raven is a trustworthy team member and her loose mouth is not a threat against me at all. That's just her character.”

 

“I didn't mean to offend you, Heda.” Clarke quickly realizes she just called the Commander by her name – she didn't know Heda was not a name, but a title and her real name was Lexa. “If I'm allowed to call you that, Commander...”

 

“Of course you are, Clarke” _Klark._

 

“I am glad I get the chance to work with you, Heda.”

 

“I am glad I get the chance to work with you, too, Sky Prisa.”

 

Did she just call Clarke some sky-thing? Clarke smiles and the Commander smiles back. And something about it just feels right, something about that makes her feel warm and safe. Even though she knows she really isn't.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! Thoughts, feelings, emotions. Go!


	4. 5... 7... 9... 10...

**5... 7... 9... 10...**

 

The train comes closer and closer to the main city and Clarke's heart beats faster and faster. The closer they come, the closer Katniss comes to her potential death. And that makes Clarke furious.

 

The moment she spent with that Lexa girl is over. The feeling is gone and the smile, so sweet and honest, has turned cold and cruel in her memory.

 

Now all Clarke can do is stand in front of one of the windows and wait for Polis to appear in her sight. She dearly hopes it won't. She hopes the train will just keep rolling and the city of her fears will not come in sight; like it never existed.

 

Other than the train moving there was no sound. It was silent. The two girls, being Octavia and Raven, haven't returned to the department yet. Heda has gone somewhere else a whole while back. That leaves Clarke to herself; with all her dark thoughts, her deep fears, her hate for the games, for the people in Polis who support them, for the game makers, for the Commander who suns herself in a not deserved love and popularity.

 

Pain stings through Clarke's bottom lip. Confused she runs her tongue over the painful lip and tastes blood. She must have bitten herself in anger without noticing. But she couldn't care less.

 

The train follows the train tracks and not long until the capitol comes in sight. It's huge. It's white. It's clean. It's beautiful. There's so much water surrounding Polis. Everything looks so much brighter than in Capitol 12; even the sky. Clarke is stunned.

 

Even though Clarke is super pissed off with everyone and everything Polis, she can't deny the beauty of the capitol. Everything's so _big_ and _clean._ She is overwhelmed. It is a whole other world. It seems like she left all her problems behind and heaven was to open it's doors for her to enter.

 

But it wasn't. This town might look like heaven, but it's hell. _What do they use to say? Devil hides in the beauty and tempting._ Clarke sighs and concentrates on her mission: saving Katniss. _I guess they're right. The dark side really does have cookies._

 

“It's stunning, isn't it?”

 

The voice startles Clarke and in her mind she notes to herself to be more aware of her surroundings and not be distracted that easily. So she puts on her Polis bitch role and a big fat smile. “Yes, Commander.”

 

The brunette joins Clarke in front of the window. Her natural scent hits Clarke's nose unexpectedly; fresh grass, trees, spring breeze, freedom and power. She doesn't know what _power_ smells like, but if there was a smell, it was this. Clarke can't describe what exactly it is, but it smells like pure leadership to her.

 

Nothing about Heda seems dangerous right now. Intimidating, yes. Her war paint is back on, but Clarke can't see a hint of evil in her face that usually comes with it. There is none of this cold attitude that Clarke associates with her character. Green eyes shine and sparkle as they lie on the rising city. In any other situation Clarke would have killed the Commander in her mind a thousand times. But right now, for some reason, she can't find any harm in that person.

 

Lexa is very aware of the blonde's blue eyes on her. Her skin feels hot, her stomach seems to tighten in a weirdly comfortable way, her mouth goes dry and her heart beat quickens. This is insane.

 

Clarke looks at the war paint, she tries to see Lexa as the cruel leader she is. But there's nothing that makes her feel uncomfortable right now. She thinks about all the people Lexa killed. But the perfect jawline, the green eyes, the smooth skin – all that makes it hard to believe she's a bad person. Clarke demands herself to hate the Commander, she thinks about Katniss. Katniss dying. Katniss leaving her alone. Katniss leaving her family alone. Primrose crying over the loss. Clarke's life over. All because of her; Commander... Heda... the death in person.

 

But whatever her brain tries to do to make her look dangerous again, it doesn't work. She's just a girl right now, next to Clarke, in a rolling train. The knives on her waist don't seem sharp. The war paint around her eyes and on her cheeks doesn't seem daring. Her warrior gear doesn't look cold and cruel. The sword on her back doesn't seem like a ray of blood and death. The thigh high boots don't speak of strength. The hard mimic on her beautiful face doesn't seem intimidating no more. The woman isn't war anymore.

 

Heda is not Heda anymore. The Commander is not a Commander right now. She is just a girl.

 

“Heda....”, Clarke whispers.

 

The woman turns her head to the blonde. She gives her a small smile. It's a short moment and Clarke is almost sure she imagined it. “Clarke.” _Klark._

 

She's a woman. A human. She has feelings. She has pain. She has family. She has friends. She's real. Clarke is overwhelmed by the realization. Did she never think of the Commander as a human being? Probably not.

 

“Clarke?”, Lexa looks worried for a second, but she wipes it off her face pretty quickly.

 

“Heda?” Clarke smiles. “I am sorry. Did I stare? It's just such an honor to be here and – I'm rambling, I'm sorry.” _Such an honor.._ And she really means it for whatever reason.

 

“I was actually coming to check on you. We don't want any problems to approach. There'll be tons of people, cameras everywhere.”

 

“I don't mean to be a burden, Commander.”

 

“Don't interrupt me, Clarke.” _Klark._ “What's that?”

 

“Mh? What's what?” Confused Clarke frowns. Did she miss any words the Commander said?

 

A hand rises to her lips and wipes the bottom lip. A shock goes through Clarke's body and she can't move. Nor can she think straight. _Klark._

 

“Are you bleeding?”

 

Is she concerned?

 

“This won't look good on the cameras. I'll have Octavia fix it somehow.”

 

Oh okay... I guess not.

 

“Are you listening to me?” Those lips move so smoothly when she talks. “Clarke!”

 

Clarke wakes up from her dreamy state and shakes her head. “Yes, yes. Sorry. Got it. Octavia fixes it. No problems approach.”

 

Lexa smiles and this time it lingers and Clarke has no doubt it's real. She wishes the soft finger would wipe over her lip again.

 

But Lexa puts on her Commander face, she shuts all emotions out, her eyes turn cold and her mouth sharp. She straightens her back and walks out – probably to get Octavia – and leaves Clarke alone with her miserable confused self.

 

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Octavia fixed Clarke's lip – it wasn't much of a challenge though, the wound wasn't big and it didn't began to swell yet. The girl also got Clarke to get into a costume of some sort of Grounder wear. But once Lexa saw her – Clarke's heart jumped and she thought she'd faint. _Stupid._ \- she ordered Octavia to change Clarke into something more Clarke-like. Although Clarke didn't understand what exactly she told the make-up artist, she guessed it by the time she felt way more comfortable in her own skin.

 

Octavia put make up on Clarke, and much to Clarke's like it was decent and rather natural.

 

Raven wasn't seen again. Clarke wondered where she was at and if she did say anything to anyone about the toilet situation.

 

Now Clarke's heart was racing. It was about time to leave the train. She dearly hopes she gets a glimpse of Katniss. Or more, Katniss gets a glimpse of her. She wants her girlfriend to know she listened to her and was here to safe her. She wants Katniss to know she's not alone.

 

“Ready?”, Octavia asks with a big smile. She's absolutely ready. Clarke on the other hand not so much.

 

She shakes her head. “I think I'm having a panic attack.”

 

Octavia's hand rubs her back. “All the eyes will be on the Heda and tributes anyway. We will not be noticed. You can just slip through the crowd down the red carpet.” But then Katniss wouldn't see her.

 

Clarke puts on a nervous smile. “I guess it's too late to go back now.” Not that she would, though.

 

Octavia laughs from her lunges. She's seems like a very happy girl. Well, as long as Raven isn't around.

 

Only then Clarke notices something that's been feeling odd to her all the time. “Octavia?”, she asks carefully.

 

“Yes, dear?”, the woman responds. She clearly is more light-minded since Polis came in sight.

 

“You call the Commander _the Heda_? Isn't it just Heda?”

 

Octavia looks at her confused. She doesn't understand what Clarke is talking about. “Heda is Heda”, she states.

 

“Yes, but you use to say _the_ Heda. Like, _the_ Octavia.”

 

The woman breaks out into a long and loud laugh. Clarke feels stupid as the fashionable girl keeps on laughing with no stop in sight.

 

Eventually she wipes her teary eyes and looks at Clarke. “Heda is not a name.” Before Clarke can embarrass herself any more, she continues. “Heda is a title. Like Commander. It basically means Commander in Trigedasleng.”

 

“Wait what? Tree-what-again?”

 

Now Octavia looks very shocked and a bit insulted. “Trigedasleng? The language all Grounders speak?”

 

“Right. I've heard about it. I just didn't know what it was called. I apologize.” Her cheeks turn red, even though she couldn't care less if she embarrasses herself in front of Octavia. Nevertheless she feels like a change of subject is needed. “What is Heda's name?” Oh yeah, great change of subject, Clarke. _Stupid._

 

Octavia gives her a serious look. She has war paint on, just like the Commander. But her's is less huge and intimidating. Still she has something dangerous about herself. “Most people doesn't know and I assume she has her reasons for that.” And that's the end of the conversation. Octavia turns towards the door, waiting for it to open so they can exit into the awaiting crowd. Clarke leaves the topic at that. Maybe she can ask Raven about it later. Where is she anyway?

 

Almost exactly 60 seconds later the door opens and Octavia smiles big and waves like a celebrity. The crowd cheers and scream her name. Many ask for Heda. Octavia ignores them all. She just waves and slowly moves over the red carpet. Clarke follows slowly. People scream at her, she can't make out sentences, just a few words here and there. A lot of _Clarke_ is heard. She guesses the TV has informed everyone about her. She raises her hand to wave at a few people, she feels like she has to. It feels weird, it feels wrong and she wishes Katniss was by her side to make fun of those gasping people. She wishes Katniss could laugh at something stupid she said.

 

Clarke turns around to the train. She hopes to see Katniss exit. She hopes Katniss sees her on the red carpet. She hopes for a little smile from her lover. But there's nothing. Katniss isn't there.

 

Fear plays with her heart beat, makes it stop and then fasten just to stop again. Then anger takes over. _Katniss will survive. If I have to kill the Commander myself, so be it. Rest in hell, Commander nameless. What are you hiding?_ She quickly makes her way over the carpet and into the building. She doesn't know where she is, she doesn't know where to go, she doesn't know what to think. She just wants to take Katniss arrows and shoot them all outside the building. She wants to take the arrow and let it fly straight into Heda's heart. She wants to hear that gasp of realization when she understands she's dying. She wants to look into the green eyes and see them lose their color. She wants to see the pleading look on the face, _please save me Klark_ , and then the fear when she realizes she won't be saved. When the body gets heavy but there's no one to catch her. And Clarke will just watch. With no smile, no tear, no fear, no anger. Just relieved and ready to let go. And the Commander will die in front of her. Clarke will walk away and Heda will die.

 

Loud screams startle the blonde. _So much to being more aware of my surroundings._ She leans into the wall and peeks out of one of the windows. She is curious what the screams are for. _Katniss maybe!?_ But it isn't. The Commander walks down the way. She looks gorgeous; cold and fierce, strong and confident. She doesn't look at anyone, she doesn't wave, she doesn't smile. She only walks and the crowd goes crazy. Some people actually pass out. Clarke rolls her eyes. She can't deal with this excitement about the woman and the games. So she pushes away from the window and walks down the hall. It's a big black and white hall and she can hear her every step.

 

Clarke quickly is forced to stop though. She doesn't know where to go. She looks around for a sign, or for Octavia. But there's no sign reading _For Game Maker Crew_ and Octavia is no where to be seen.

 

She hears the door open and spins around. Heda closes the huge black door. “Clarke.” _Klark._ “Lost I assume.”

 

 _Bitch._ She nods. “I feel idiotic.”

 

“Follow.” With no other words and no look at Clarke her black boots fly over the floor. Every step sounds loudly through the hall. She looks perfect even when only walking. Something about her is just making her look so good with everything she does.

 

Clarke follows the woman. She has a great view on her braids. The longer she watches her hair, the more she wants to run her fingers through it. Loosen the braids and see how it falls down her back. See how it flies around her neck and cheeks loosely.

 

Lexa leads Clarke to an elevator. There's no need to wait for it, it's already there. They both step inside and turn to face the doors. The Commander presses a bottom with the number 13. The elevator says _Lobby_ and it changes to _Floor 1_ once they move. They move higher and the numbers go by. 5.... 7... Nobody says a word. But the tension is in the air. 9.... 10.... Clarke's heart beats heavily. She wants to just reach out and touch the Commander's hand to make this awful tension go away. The air seems thick and she's about to get sick. 12... Her head moves and her eyes land on the woman next to her. It feels like a force, she can't handle not looking at her. As her eyes hit sight of the face, the jawline, the little ear of the Commander she feels better, she feels lighter, a heavy stone has been lifted off her chest, she doesn't feel trapped anymore. Clarke opens her mouth. _What am I doing?_ 13.

 

Quickly Clarke rushes out of the elevator but is soon lost again. This time not lost in direction, but lost in awe. The elevator went directly into a huge apartment. There's couches, chairs, tables, an open kitchen, lots of bright lights and colorful food, a big TV and a sight that's unbelievable beautiful.

She thinks she hears a little giggle come from behind her but when she turns the Commander's face is hard and cold.

 

“Is this for us?”

 

“Us?”, the Commander asks wanting a more specified question.

 

“Me and the others. I mean.... Octavia? Raven?”

 

Lexa nods. “Octavia and Raven are the only ones to be with you. The others on the team have their own homes in town and you will meet them soon enough. Octavia will be thrilled to tell you all about them. Raven will give a look into the work and the techniques.” She turns to leave.

 

“Where will you sleep?” _Don't go too far, Clarke._

 

“I'm right over you”, she says and leaves. _Right over me..._ Clarke... She didn't say Clarke... _Klark...._ Why does that bother her so much? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please be so nice and leave helpful notes and commends :)  
> love you, xxx


	5. Who are you?

**Who are you?**

 

Clarke looks at the closed doors that lead to the elevator. Just a few minutes ago right behind those doors a beautiful leader disappeared and left her with confusing thoughts.

 

Thoughts about the Commander's eyes on hers. Green on blue. Thoughts about Heda's hands teasing her skin. Thoughts of her low whisper and her soft breath against sensible flesh. Rough and demanding. Thoughts that tell of perfect braided hair getting messed up.

 

The blonde turns away from the doors.  _ Get yourself together.  _ She is angry at the Commander. Angry at her, because she makes her feel things that are nothing more but empty lies. A woman like that, no matter how gracious and pure, cannot love. She has no mercy, no feelings for anyone but herself.  _ Exactly. So concentrate.  _

 

Clarke takes a deep breath and with each exhale she exhales the thoughts about the Commander. If someone could take her off those thoughts, that’d be great.

 

“Seat yourself, girl.” Octavia walks down three steps that lead up to their three different bedrooms. _When you ask for a distraction and Octavia Blake appears..._ “Why you standing in the room like a lost plant?”

 

Clarke has been titled a few things in Capitol 12 but never a lost plant. Guess there's a first for everything, right? “I was just... honestly, I don't know. I guess I am a little overwhelmed.” She smiles at the brunette and earns herself a smile back.

 

“Overwhelmed by what? How Octavia rushed up to her room so she could peek out and see the glorious appearance of the fearless Heda?” A chuckling Raven bird steps down to them.

 

“I did not”, Octavia argues and with her war paint on her face that killer look in her eyes does seem a little scary. But her blushing cheeks betray her.

 

Raven drops onto the couch and lifts her feet onto the glassy couch table. She puts her arms over the back and looks at the two girls. “O is so in love with her. I am happy I finally have someone to rant about it with.”

 

Octavia gives her a serious dangerous stare but Raven seems to not even notice. She has her eyes fixed upon the blonde newcomer. Clarke nods quickly. “I am trying my best to be at your wishes, milady.”

 

“Now that's what I like to hear!” Raven grins big. “I tell you something, Clarke girl. This might just be the beginning of an awesome friendship.”

 

“I dearly hope so.” Clarke laughs at the bird girl. She enjoys Raven's honesty and her loose tongue, she likes how being around her seems so simple. She likes that this Raven girl is not too obsessed with the Heda and not too focused on the games. She has this cute humor and innocent face, but something about her just tells you not to mess with her. And Clarke likes it. She really likes it.

 

Octavia sits down in one of the chairs and puts her feet under her butt. She wraps her arms around herself and looks super relaxed. She has simple braids in her hair that remind Clarke of the woman she was trying to not think about.

 

“So tell me”, Octavia begins. “Do you miss home?”

 

_ Sensitive topic.  _ “Well... I do actually. I know it's not that great but you know … it's home. But I am glad I am here. This gonna be fun.” Speaking the word  _ fun  _ she almost choked. This is by far one of the words she did not have in mind using at all.

 

“You got any family left there?”, O continues.

 

“Yeah actually. My mom. And there's also Primrose, who is like a little sister to me, but she's not blood related. I am so happy she's safe.”

 

“Primrose you say?” Raven makes a suspicious face.

 

_I said too much. Fuck, don't figure it out._

 

Raven continues with a frown on her forehead that rather speaks of figuring it out than confusion. “That girl that got pulled? The little girl? Didn't her sister volunteer?”

 

“Yes, that's right.” Clarke's heart beat fastens. She hears it in her ears. Do the other two hear it too? “Katniss is her name.”

 

“So you know her?”, Octavia asks.

 

_ Careful now, Clarke.  _ Raven doesn't leave her out of her sight. She definitely has something on her mind, Clarke just hopes it's the wrong thing. “Not really.”  _ There's no back now.  _ “Everyone in 12 knows the little cute Primrose. She's so nice and smart. It's not a big deal. It'd be more of a deal if you didn't know her.”

 

“I see. Little town and stuff. Kiddo is famous.”

 

“Exactly, Octavia. And even though I know Primrose, I do not know a lot about Katniss. And I do not care that much either. When it hit Primrose I almost died, but then her sister volunteered and I was relieved. This sounds cruel, but rather her than little Prim.” _Please buy it._

 

Raven shrugs. “Octavia actually comes from District 2.”

 

“Isn't that the one with overpopulation?”

 

“She actually has a brother.”

 

“No one has a brother.”

 

Octavia growls. “Believe it or not. I was the girl hidden under the floor.”

 

“I heard about that.” Clarke finallysits down next to Raven and looks at Octavia. “They said your parents built a whole small room beneath your house so they could hide you. That's insane.”

 

“Are you saying my mom was insane for keeping me?” Her eyebrows rise, her face darkens.

 

“No”, Clarke quickly implies. “I say it's insane that they had to do all this to keep you safe. That's not fair.”

 

Raven nods. “Yeah it's pretty harsh. But she turned out great. Except for that Heda obsession.”

 

“Stop already, would you!?” The girl under the floor sounds angry, but her face is soft. _I guess fighting really makes those two happy._

 

Clarke laughs at the girls and they laugh with her. It almost feels like old times when she would laugh with some classmates.

 

“Do you have a nickname? Mine is O. You can totally use that. And Raven is Rae. Or Reyes, her last name.”

 

“I actually rather go with bird.” Raven laughs at that and nods. She approves that nickname.

 

“So do you?”, Octavia repeats.

 

“No. Just Clarke.”

 

“Just Clarke? That's not a good name”, Raven states. “How about something better? If you pick bird, I'll pick.... princess.”

 

Clarke laughs loudly. Is that a joke? “Why princess?”

 

Raven Reyes grins. “Because you have that look on your face. You know best and nobody else shall argue.”

 

“I do not.” She's shocked. Does she really have that look upon her?

 

“Yes you do.” The bird nods. “You have something about you that just looks like you've been born royal. Maybe it's the golden hair or those never-real blue eyes. I don't know.”

 

“What you saying _never-real?_ They're so damn real!” 

 

The situation is bright and all the girls laugh. They have fun goofing around, throwing words and mocking each other. And now Clarke sees why  _ fighting  _ is not really fighting and why  _ not-really-fighting _ is so funny.

 

“Princess it is”, Octavia finishes the discussion.

 

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“They basically start with cleaning the tributes”, Octavia explains. “They cut their hair, they do their eyebrows and so on.”

 

Raven holds up her hand to stop Octavia from going into detail. “Right now they're finishing up the last touches and after that the next thing up is the costume.”

 

“That's where I come in”, O grins big. “I do the costumes for 12. I've been doing the Grounder wear and everything Heda for a few years now, but this year the Commander asked me if I wanted to step up my game and get more involved with the tributes.”

 

The other brunette girl interrupts her. “The real reason is that the other designers are just too stupid to make something good for the District 12 tributes. Commander hopes Octavia can bring some spark into the things.”

 

Clarke has been sitting with the two girls for a few hours. They talked and laughed and mocked around. Soon the conversation turned to the games, or more specific every very step that's going on before the tributes appear on television. 

 

The blonde put on an interested face, but soon turned to really be interested in the conversation and the details of everything. 

 

“What did you plan for their costumes, O?” Clarke's eyes have a spark in them. For the first time she is excited for the pre-game days. Now she understands the hype about it. The games would probably be something fun, if it wasn't about twenty-three children dying; for no cause whatsoever.

 

Octavia hopes up and down on her seat. Her legs are beneath her ass and her hands tap a rhythm on the arms of the arm chair. She's excited. “I can't tell you. You'll see soon enough, though! Oh man, you gonna love it. So much, you gonna love it so much. It'll blow your mind.”

 

“I hope not.” Octavia's grin dies and she stares at Raven. “I mean”, the bird continues. “I still need my mind for the games and future events such as living.”

 

The Grounder girl laughs and it seems like she has no worries in the world.

 

“I need to go”, Octavia states and holds her hands up as Raven argues. “It's time for me to finish up my costumes and make sure they fit. I'm glad both of the tributes aren't fat. That would mean a lot more work.”

 

_ Nobody in District 12 is fat. We can't get fat. There's no fucking food!  _

 

“I'll see you later, Rae. Princess.” She hugs them both and then dances across the floor to get some work stuff out of her bedroom. A few minutes later Raven and Clarke are by themselves.

 

For a long while there's silence. But eventually Clarke breaks it.

 

“District 2 is masonry. Right?”

 

“Yes”, Raven nods. “And they educate the peacekeepers.” 

 

Clarke nods as she's putting the puzzles together. “I would like to know more about Octavia's District. And yours. Where are you from? You're not from Polis, are you?”

 

The bird shakes her head and her typical ponytail flies around her face. “Three.”

 

“Technology. Fitting. I should have known.” Clarke smiles softly. “From what I heard you're a genius.”

 

“You heard right then.” 

 

Blue eyes wander around the room. She doesn't know what to say. 

 

“You know what I don't get? Why are you on the team? District 12 doesn't really have the abilities to work anywhere in Polis. Let alone at the games.”

 

Clarke looks at her and she shrugs. She honestly doesn't know. She can't understand why on one day there was this message brought to her that she'd been offered a job. She is not any special. “I am confused myself.”

 

“Commander will have her reasons. And you seem like a decent add.”

 

“I have to admit” Clarke sits up and looks at the brunette. “I thought O was from 1. Luxury. Because of her fashion sense and everything.” 

 

Raven smiles. “She has a lot of surprises and you just scratched the surface.”

 

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The Commander's green eyes lie on a simple wooden box. It's closed. And she doesn't intent on opening it. Not yet. Maybe never. It's too painful. It'd mean an end. And maybe a begging she wasn't ready for.

 

She holds back a sigh. This is not the right time for sentimentality. Not with the games on the list and the blonde girl on her back. Something is wrong about Clarke Griffin. Lexa can feel it. There's a danger coming from her, it feels like she is planning something but then every time she looks at her – secretly, of course – that feeling fades and it feels so far away. 

 

Lexa knows something is going on. Something unpleasant. But she can't figure it out – or more, she doesn't want to. Whenever she thinks about a danger coming from the blonde, her thoughts instantly wander to those blue eyes. Hate was in them. But so was something else. And this _something else_ was why Lexa didn't care what the blonde was planning. She knew she could stop it either way. Now or later – who cares. 

 

Her thoughts tripped over a long pushed away memory. 

 

“ _You are fighting guns with guns!”, she screams._

 

Lexa shakes her head. She wants to shake the memory out of her mind.

 

“ _You are fighting the person you've become.”_

 

She stands up and tosses the wooden box into a drawer. Roughly she pushes it close. But just a second later she opens the drawer again and makes sure the box was not harmed. It wasn't. 

 

A small smile is about to creep onto her lips, but she harshly pushes it back and closes the drawer again. 

 

She hears the whisper in her head. _“...of you....”_ She tries hard to not hear the words. She doesn't want to.

 

The woman gets angry with herself. Why do these thoughts come at such unpleasant moments? _Go away._ She tosses the layers of her Heda gear onto the floor one by one. Then she drops onto the huge bed, only in her panties and bra, and she curls herself into a fetus position and fights her own self. Fights her thoughts. Fights her emotions. Fights her past.

 

“ _I am....”_ She shakes her head. Tears are crashing through her barrier and it hurts her eyes to fight them back. _A whisper soft and loving. “I am proud of you.”_ And the tears are falling and the emotions are bursting through and the poor fearless Heda can't control her shaking. 

 

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Nervously she stands in front of the bedroom door. She lifts her hand... and drops it again. It takes her three tries before she finally lets her knuckles knock against the wooden door. 

 

Clarke waits a few minutes, but there's no answer. She knocks again, this time a little louder. 

 

No answer.

 

She knocks again and leans towards the door. “Heda? Are you in there?”

 

_ This is so not my world.  _ “Commander? I am coming in now.” A deep breath later, she pushes the door open and steps inside. 

 

Clarke takes in the wonderful, awesome and huge bedroom. There's a mini bar. There's a bed, as big as her hometown room. A huge TV like she has never seen it before. And on the messy sheets she finds a woman on her stomach, legs spread widely, one arm beneath her head and the other weirdly tangled in-between white sheets, her hair is spread across her naked back and falls into her face. The only body part covered by the sheets is her butt. Clarke tries to look away, but she can't.

 

The Commander looks so calm. Her beautiful full hair on her back makes Clarke wanna run her fingers through it. She notices that the woman has still her braids in. But all of her clothes lie next to the bed on the floor in a big mess. Clarke wonders if the woman is naked.  _That would be awkward. And maybe cost me the job. Oh man._

 

Clarke lets her eyes wander from the beautiful hair down the back to that perfect ass beneath the sheets and lower to her legs. Now how does she wake the woman?  _Here goes nothing._

 

The blonde steps to the bed and kneels onto the mattress, she scoots over the bed to reach the woman in the middle. “Heda?” She reaches out to touch her, but pulls back her hand. After all the woman looks pretty naked. And she's her boss. Not a good idea. “Commander? You need to wake up. It's time.”

 

But the brunette doesn't even make a sound. She's deep asleep. And it hurts Clarke that she needs to wake her, because she looks so peaceful right now and not a thing dangerous or cruel. She kinda looks vulnerable. 

 

“This is a job for Octavia, not me.” But Octavia is busy with the dressing and make-up _ing._ And Raven, that little beastly bird, made her go wake the Commander. So now she is stuck waking a naked, sleeping, beautiful Heda. 

 

_ Okay, better apologizing for waking her inappropriately than apologizing for letting her miss her appointments.  _

 

She takes in the look in front of her a last time, she reaches her hand out and touches her back. The brown hair feels soft and she really wants to slide her fingers through it. She gently shakes the brunette beauty. She calls her name – or more her title, since she has no idea about the girl's name. She strokes over the soft brown hair on her back. “I hate to wake you up but it's time for work.”

 

The Commander moves slightly and Clarke takes her hand away. “Are you awake?” But the woman is not awake, she is still asleep. 

 

So she puts her hand back on her upper back and rubs in circles. It feels good. Her skin is warm. And – just to mention it again – her hair feels so soft. It's nice. Clarke softly shakes the woman. “Okay, wake up, Heda.” She keeps shaking her softly and Lexa reacts. She stretches her arm out and moves her legs. “Wake up”, Clarke says. A half asleep Lexa turns around, the sheets fall off her and show that she's in fact not naked. _Oh thank god. Still revealing too much though._ The brunette scoots close to Clarke and remains silent. 

 

“Okaaay no. Commander? You really need to wake up.” Clarke touches her shoulder and shakes her softly. 

 

Lexa groans. “Not now, Costia. Round three was enough for me.”

 

Clarke chokes in shock. Is the Commander talking about.... personal stuff? This is going too far. “Commander, this is Clarke. Please get up.”

 

“Clarke? Who's Clarke?” _Sleepy Heda is really not the smartest._

 

The blonde scoots away a few inches. The body heat is too much for her. The hair in that beautiful face. “The games start in three mintues, Game Maker. They need you in the control center.”

 

“What?!” Eyes dart open. “Clarke? _Clarke!_ ” Lexa grabs the sheets and covers herself. “You have a lot to explain, Sky Prisa!”

 

Clarke quickly gets up from the bed. “You didn't wake up. I knocked three times. You have an appointment, Heda.” She bows her head slightly in an attempt to show respect. 

 

Lexa sighs. “It's okay. It's my fault. I shouldn't have fell asleep without setting an alarm. I shouldn't have left the door unlocked. I am....” She puts on her Heda face, but with her being half naked wrapped into her bed sheets it's not that intimidating. “I am thankful for your.... Thank you for waking me up, Clarke.” _Klark._

 

“It was my pleasure.” _What?_ “Oh no! I mean... like not.... I mean.... I was just.... I was not looking.”

 

Clarke blushes and she feels really stupid. But is it just her or is the Commander blushing too?

 

She looks at the woman's cheeks, but something else than searching for the blush is catching her eye. Her war paint was still on when she fell asleep and it seems smudged. First she thought it was because she rubbed her face on the sheets – which are black from the paint now – but now it seems like there's more to it. 

 

“Heda?”, she softly says. Lexa doesn't respond, nor does she react. “Did you cry?”

 

Her head scoots up to Clarke's eyes and green ones dart blue ones. Clarke holds the stare, she knows she is in the better position right now with the half naked Heda in her smudged war paint. And even her death stare can't hide her sad eyes anymore.

 

“It's okay to cry.” Is it really? What does she have to cry for? But in her eyes all that Clarke can see is sorrow and fear to get caught having it. “I know I am going too far here. But since I already have seen you half naked I think it's too late to back down now. If you wanna talk I am here. And so are Octavia and Raven. I am not afraid of you.” Clarke sees something change in the green eyes. The Commander's face is cold, but her eyes are soft, even though Clarke can see she tries to keep up her barriers. “I am not afraid of you”, she repeats. And something about that must be hitting right into the woman's heart. She drops her Heda face and suddenly she's just a woman with a black painted face. 

 

The change from the warrior to a simple woman astonishes Clarke every time again. Those two personalities that are not one but still depend on each other.

 

“There's no need to be afraid of me either.” Her face turns hard again, but Clarke is quick to speak. “I am not afraid of you, Heda. But I respect your authority. And I think if you would allow yourself to just be you, the _no Heda_ kind of you, for just a minute...”

 

“We are what we are.”

 

Clarke ignores her and just continues. “...then you would be much happier.”

 

“Are you questioning me, Griffin?” The blonde can hear the threat, but she wants to show the woman that she is not afraid of anything she might can do. 

 

“I would never question your ways as Heda. I can't. But I question your way as a woman. _Who are you?_ ”

 

Lexa wants to stand up, she scoots uncomfortably, but she knows even if she would rise above the blonde she would still be wrapped into her sheets, half naked, her hair a mess and her war paint telling about her tears. 

 

“Don't hide what's the best in you.”

 

The Commander's eyes show a hint of emotion, but it's soon gone and replaced by pure anger. Something about that sentence was hitting the woman in the wrong way. Her eyes turn dark and she basically spits out the words. “ _Get. Out!_ ”

 

Clarke quickly notices she has lost this battle, so she turns on her heels and leaves the woman alone in the big room, on her big bed, with her big sorrow.

 

“ _Don't hide the best of you, Lexa”,_ a voice rings through her mind. A voice she knows all too well. A voice she wishes she could forget.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a review with any thoughts or emotions or wishes. Whatever goes through your mind.


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